


5 Times Jack Stimmed, and 1 Time He was Proud of It

by smilexdarling



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Autism, Autistic Jack, Cuddling & Snuggling, Established Relationship, Fluff, Happy Ending, M/M, Stimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-19
Updated: 2016-09-19
Packaged: 2018-08-15 23:01:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8076277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smilexdarling/pseuds/smilexdarling
Summary: Jack gets caught stimming by his friends, but eventually he realizes he doesn't have to hide it anymore.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Bitty and Jack are out to their friends in this fic, just FYI.

Jack sighed happily, pulling Bitty’s arm tighter around him as they snuggled on Jack’s couch, half-watching TV. 

He felt Bitty wiggle closer behind him and he didn’t even try to stop the smile that overtook his face as he laced his fingers with Bitty’s where they rested over his chest. 

Bitty’s breath ghosted against his ear as he asked, “Want me to lay on you?”

Jack turned around to look at Bitty, “Yeah, if you want to.”

Bitty grinned in response and gently pushed Jack so that he was laying on his back. He settled on top of Jack, tucking his head up under Jack’s chin, and poked at Jack’s arms so that he would wrap them around Bitty’s back.

“How’s that feel?”

Jack melted into the couch, savoring the feeling of Bitty’s solid weight pressing him down, making him feel safe and contained.

“Feels perfect. Thank you,” Jack said, kissing the top of Bitty’s head.

“Of course, sweetheart.”

* * *

“Pekka Rinne, Pekka Rinne, Pekka Rinne,” Jack mutters under his breath.

“What was that, Jack?” Holster asked.

Jack looked away from the TV. 

His schedule had allowed him to get away for the night to watch the World Cup of Hockey with the Haus, and he was having a great time sandwiched between Bitty and Lardo on the couch.

“Hm?”

“I thought you said something. Oh no, Rans, am I hearing things? Is this the end?” Holster turned to Ransom, distraught.

“Oh uh, no, I was just saying Pekka Rinne’s name. It sounds cool, I guess,” Jack shrugged. 

He hadn’t realized he’d been saying the name out loud, and there wasn’t really a smooth way to explain why he’d been repeating it. He could feel his ears turning red.

Bitty interjected, “I like Aaron Ekblad’s name. Ekblad sounds cool, but it’s also kinda silly. Plus there’s all kinds of wordplay opportunities with it.”

Jack glanced at Bitty, who caught his eye and winked. Jack gave him a grateful grin.

Thankfully, that started a conversation about the various ‘cool’ names throughout the NHL, which Ransom surprisingly didn’t have a spreadsheet for, and Jack was able to relax and enjoy the rest of the game. He did keep repeating Pekka’s name, but he made more of an effort to do it so no one but Bitty, and maybe Lardo, could hear him.

* * *

Jack nibbled on the tip of his thumb while slowly rubbing his index finger against his top lip. 

It was a big night: Samwell was playing one of their deciding games to find out if they’d advance to the frozen four and tensions were running high. He hadn’t been able to meet up with Bitty before the game; traffic had been awful after he’d gotten out of practice. However, he had sent him a heartfelt, good luck text and planned on giving him a fun-filled night after the game, when it was just the two of them in Bitty’s room, that he knew would make up for it. 

Shitty and Tater came back from the concession stand just before the game started, both of their arms full of food, and continued their debate about whether or not hotdogs were sandwiches in their seats next to Jack. 

Jack zoned them out and focused on the game. 

Just after the start of the second period, Samwell was down by one, and Jack knew it was going to be a close game. He had faith in Bitty and the rest of the team, but he let himself rock a little bit in his seat.

“Zimmboni, give poor thumb a break! You chewing on it the whole game!” Tater said.

Jack quickly pulled his thumb away from his mouth and saw that it was a little wrinkled and red. He tried to come up with some explanation, but Shitty beat him to it.

“It’s okay, brah. He does that sometimes when he needs to chill the fuck out.”

Tater nodded, “Ah yes, anxiety. Terrible, terrible thing. You chew to heart’s content!”

Jack turned back to the game, letting himself sneak his fist back up to his mouth after a minute. He bumped Shitty’s arm with his elbow and smiled when Shitty bumped him back. 

* * *

The Falconers lost. 

Jack knew that losing one game wasn’t that big of a deal, especially since it was still early in the season, but rationality rarely won out right after a bad loss like the one they’d had that night.

The Penguins had beaten the Falconers five to nothing, and Jack couldn’t shake the heavy feeling on his shoulders. It didn’t help that he’d had a hard time sleeping the past few nights, and that it had been a week and a half since he’d been able to see Bitty in person. He just wanted to get home, watch some tape from the game, then call it a night and go to bed.

It was close to midnight by the time Jack was finished with post-game interviews, showering, and getting back to his apartment. He shouldered his door open and shut before dropping his bag by the front door. Later, he’d blame his sudden tiredness for not noticing the lamps casting a soft glow around his apartment, or the smell of a fresh pie baking in the oven. As it was, he came to an abrupt stop when he walked further into the living room and saw Bitty with his head propped in his hand, a fond smile lighting up his face.

“Hi, honey.”

Jack’s shoulders instantly drooped and his eyes fell shut.

It only took a few moments before Jack felt Bitty come close and wrap him up in a hug. Jack leaned down so that he could tuck his face into Bitty’s shoulder, and he let out a pleased hum when Bitty started rubbing his hands up and down Jack’s back.

“In case it wasn’t clear, I’m really, really happy to see you,” Jack mumbled.

Bitty chuckled, “I’m really, really happy to see you too, baby. Sorry about the game.”

Jack shrugged as best he could being bent over at an awkward angle. 

“If it helps any, Sidney Crosby doesn’t look half as hot as you do zoomin’ around that rink. And his butt doesn’t hold a candle to yours.”

“You’re just saying that.”

“No I’m not. Your butt is my favorite butt. Sid’s a respectable second place, but this is one area where he doesn’t come in first.”

Jack huffed out a laugh, then let the conversation drop off as he rubbed his eyes back and forth against Bitty’s shoulder. He was wearing Jack’s favorite sweatshirt, the one that was so soft it was hard not to immediately demand cuddles every time Bitty wore it, and it felt heavenly pressing against his eyelids.

“You wore the sweatshirt,” Jack said.

He could feel Bitty nod, “I figured you’d want snuggles later, and I knew you had to be tired, so yeah, I wore it.”

“You’re the best.”

“I really am,” Bitty said with a smile as he led Jack over to the couch, careful not to dislodge him from rubbing his eyes. 

Bitty had to separate them while he squished back into the arm of the couch. But he settled quickly and Jack happily shoved his face back against Bitty’s shoulder when he opened his arms for him. 

“Bits?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you for loving me.”

Bitty’s hands faltered against Jack’s back where he’d been rubbing circles, “Oh gosh, honey, you don’t have to thank me.”

“No, I do. Not everyone would be as amazing as you are about all of the things I bring to the table. You don’t ever make me feel like I’m weird, or like I’m a burden, and that means more than I could ever say. So, just, thank you.”

“Nothing about you is a burden, and I’m not perfect either. I have my own struggles that you help me with. That’s what loving each other is about, being a team and being there for each other through it all. And you know I think it’s cute when you do the eye-rubby thing.”

Jack grumbled halfheartedly, “S’not cute.”

“It is cute, Mr. Zimmermann. You’re a cutie with a booty,” Bitty said with a shrieking laugh. 

Jack loved that sound, and he couldn’t help but laugh along with him. 

* * *

“And that’s basically how the war ended. Fascinating, eh?” Jack asked.

Chowder nodded and beamed at Jack while Nursey blinked owlishly.

“Yeah, that’s really cool, man. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you talk that much,” Dex said as he came back from the kitchen with a can of soda. 

The frogs had decided to drive down to spend the night at Jack’s place for the game he had the next day. Bitty wasn’t able to make it, too much homework that had been put off and was about to be due, but Jack was still excited to host Chowder, Dex, and Nursey. 

Jack ducked his head, “Sorry. I can get kinda carried away about that stuff. Just tell me to give it a rest if I do it again.”

Dex shook his head and plopped down in between Nursey and Chowder on the couch, “No, it’s cool. I didn’t mean it as a bad thing. You make history sound way more interesting than my actual History professor did.”

Jack grimaced sympathetically, “You had Wainwright?” 

“Yup.”

“That sucks, he was pretty boring. But Prescott, oh my gosh, she was the best. She gave this incredible lecture my sophomore year that made me decide to major in History in the first place. It was about World War II, and…” Jack rambled on for another fifteen minutes, recounting the lecture that changed his college career. He was flushed and happy by the end of his retelling, glad to see that none of the boys looked bored or annoyed. They all looked like they actually cared about what he was saying, and Jack was relieved. 

He hated when he’d go off on a tangent and people would look like they wanted nothing more than to get away from him by the time he was done. He mostly hated that he couldn’t always tell sooner when to stop talking, but the frogs seemed happy to listen to everything Jack had to say.

Jack smiled to himself as Nursey started talking about his favorite teacher that had a funky, new pair of glasses each week. 

He already knew that the SMH team was a great group of guys that he could be safe with, but it was nice to have that fact reaffirmed from time to time. 

* * *

Shitty, having finally made it through his first semester as a law student and in dire need of a break from the Ivy, decided to throw an end-of-semester-slash-it’s-my-birthday kegster at the Haus just before everyone left for break. Jack was obviously invited, but so was Tater since he and Shitty had hit it off at that game they’d both attended earlier in the semester, and he rode with Jack up to Samwell for the celebration.

To say that Jack was excited would be an understatement. He was downright giddy. 

The Falconers had a few days off from playing, he was going to start the weekend off right with all of his closest friends, and after the party, he had the whole weekend with his amazing boyfriend where they would go back to Jack’s apartment and do all kinds of catching up. Then after a few more games, he and Bitty would be off to Montreal to spend Christmas with Jack’s parents. Basically, there was nothing more Jack could possibly ask for. 

He and Tater sang loudly along to the radio, the country station, because Jack had successfully turned Tater into a country fan. Eventually, they pulled up outside the Haus and were greeted by everyone as the kegster was just kicking off.

If he hadn’t been so happy and surrounded by so many people that he knew loved him, Jack would have tried harder to stop his hands from flapping, but he just couldn’t bring himself to do so. 

He was in the kitchen, relatively secluded from the rest of the kegster-goers, talking to Dex, Nursey, Chowder, Lardo, Shitty, Tater, Ransom, Holster, and Bitty. It was loud, and he could feel the festive energy in the room flowing through him, so he flapped. 

The conversations around him all paused for a moment, and the usual embarrassment started to sink in. But, being fortified by his good mood, he decided to cut Bitty off before he could try to explain it away.

“Yeah, so, I’m autistic. Sometimes I flap. It’s just a thing I do when I’m happy.”

No one said anything for another long moment. 

Then, Ransom clapped Jack on the shoulder and said, “S’wawesome. I’m happy, too, man. Tonight’s gonna be epic!”

His friends all cheered, lifted their drinks, and went back to their conversations.

Jack breathed a sigh of relief. That had been spur of the moment, but it had gone well. His friends just accepted it, accepted him, and moved on. 

He felt Bitty tugging gently on his arm, so he turned to look at him.

Bitty smiled, but didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to, everything he wanted to say was in his eyes. 

Jack leaned in to give him a quick kiss. 

Ransom was right, that night was epic.

**Author's Note:**

> Can you guess which WCH2016 game I was watching while I wrote this? ;)
> 
> You can find me on [tumblr](http://smilexdarling.tumblr.com/) if you like!


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